Hero In Me
by aberaham tulip
Summary: A bet that should never have been made forces a young man's hand, creating consequences none could have imagined.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Kim Possible is not a trained monkey bent an world domination. I on the other hand am.  
Kim Possible is, on the other hand, the property of the Walt Disney corporation. Young Justice, its affliated characters, and all others of that appear in D.C. Comics belong to d.c. Comics. Not me in any such way.  
I have no idea who Access belongs to.  
Any character that does not belong in one of these catagories is probably the product of my own twisted brain.  
Don't sue me, I'm a broke college student. It would just waste both of our times. 

WARNING:_This Fic is contains material of a somewhat violent and adult nature. It is rated R. A rating it deserves, but don't worry it's not too extreme. _

INFO: Single spaces are between paragraphs, dotted lines indicate complete scene shifts, there is no indication of perspective shifts, normally I just use a second set of spaces, but this system won't let me. I mostly use a tight third person narrator. So it's important to know who the narrator is focusing on. I apologize if this becomes confusing. I have another website, the link will be on my author's page, where the fic will be displayed with extra spaces denoting perspective shifts. I hate doing it this way so if anyone actaully knows how to control this damn system let me know.

As always review and have a nice day.

Hero In me

Like hell you will, I know I can't stop you but you will be stopped.

Words float across time and space. Seeking ears that could one day listen. A final plea, a demand, a curse maybe.

Like hell you will, I know I can't stop you but you will be stopped.

They continued on, across the centuries, regressing backwards, spilling into the minds of any connected to the time stream.

Like hell you will, I know I can't stop you but you will be stopped.

The words continued to travel backwards even as all creation headed towards its final stop.

Like hell you will, I know I can't stop you but you will be stopped.

Finally one man heard it.

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Reality rippled and shook. Sweat ran down a man's face. His name was Axel and he was Access. His flesh burned as he strained, reaching inside himself, cursing the fact that he'd ever gotten this strong. The yarn of reality tore more, the stitching denoting history now lost. He still pulled, doing what he never should have.

Then, keeping an old metaphor, another string of reality emerged, intertwining with the old one. He focused harder, forcing nips and tucks into, pushing and pulling the fates as best he could. He wouldn't sacrifice anybody, even one would be too much. The histories had to blend, but the futures must change. There was only one combination that even possessed that chance.

A single tear ran down his face as he did what he must. And then he became as unto a god.

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Bart Allen was confused. Blissfully so one might say. The last thing he remembered, and it was a fairly recent memory, like seven seconds ago, was being tortured on darkside's planet. Now he was standing, relatively unscathed in front of Young Justice's temporary headquarters. The old hotel was comforting compared to the site of his friend's mutilated bodies.

Bart blinked and then a man stood in front of him.

"Whatthehell?"

The man spoke.

"Look we don't have time. Impulse, Bart Allen, your world has changed. You are the only one who will ever know. I don't know why, but something about you has prevented the reality shift from effecting your memories. There shouldn't be many changes though." The figure shook his head. "That's not important now. Right now in Middleton, Colorado, a location that just now exists here, so you won't remember it, is a girl named Kim Possible. If she dies the world ends. Save her."

Impulse blinked again. The man was gone. Bart blinked once more. Then he ran. He knew this, it was familiar. The wise sage shows up and gives you a quest, you complete it and win the game. Just like the V.R. realm he'd grown up in. He could do this it would be easy. He just had to figure out where Middleton was first. His super-fast body tore through the air, sending him hurtling in a random direction. Then he suddenly stopped, turned around, and ran back the way he came.

He sped through the hotel, finally alighting on a specific room. Inside was a young man wearing a mask.

"RobinIneedhelp!!!Where'sMiddleton?"

The boy wonder blinked once, twice, three times, then responded.

"Colorado, about center of the state. Why?" There was no response, Bart was gone.

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Ron Stoppable tried not to puke. Around him, slaughtered mercilessly were the students of Yamanouchi. The gore tore into him. Entrails were strewn about the campus of the ninja school. Some of the bodies had been burned beyond recognition.

He walked forward, unaware of the consequences his actions would bring. He'd come to simply resume the training the grand sensai of Yamanouchi had been giving him. It had become a ritual. Every summer since he'd first learned of the academy he'd spent time there training, there had only been one. He'd improved, but not by much.

He stopped as his body finally reached its destination. In front of him was the lotus blade. He grabbed it. Images flooded his mind.

He saw a pale woman, her fists glowing, destroying the gates of Yamanouchi. He saw her raven hair twist in the wind as her clawed hands cut into the stomachs of students he'd trained with. He saw her stroll into the chamber of the sword, her claws still wet with the blood of the students of Yamanouchi.

He saw Yori attempt to stop her. He saw Shego break first her arms, then her legs, leaving the young ninja defenseless. Embers of hatred stirred inside his soul as he watched the villainess tear away the girl's clothing. Embers burst into full fledged flames as he watched Shego paw at Yori's flesh. The flames became an inferno as two fingers entered the girl. Shego didn't stop there. He saw the villainess add more fingers, finally forming a fist that pounded in and out of the Asian girl. He saw tears run down Yori's face as her body betrayed her. Then Shego's hands lit, the greenish plasma searing the inner muscles Ron knew so well. Tears of rage welled in his eyes as he saw the other flaming hand descend onto one of Yori's breasts. Yori's screams filled his head.

The tears rolled down his cheeks as Shego repeated the procedure with the other breast. Yori screamed louder. Then Shego removed both her hands. The flaming appendages flipped the Asian girl over. Then the flames died away.

The tears fell away from his face as Shego rammed her fist into a passage Yori had never let him near. Shego continued to pump her arm in and out of the young girl, uncaring of the blood now streaming down her arm. Yori screamed even louder as Shego's fist once again burst into flames. After continuing for what seemed like an eternity to young Ron Stoppable, Shego removed her fist from the ninja. It was no longer flaming.

The tears splashed against the floor as Shego lowered her naked form onto the broken ninja's face.

"**Lick."  
**  
Her voice held a fierce rumble of an ancient evil that Ron failed to recognize. A dark glow surrounded him as the sight of the broken ninja following the dark command played in front of his eyes. The glow intensified as he saw the tears run down Yori's face. Still the girl lapped away, finally bringing her tormentor to climax.

Shego raised up with a smile, but she wasn't done. A yellow stream emanated from the woman's squatting body. It splashed against Yori's shut mouth. A clawed hand grabbed the ninja's hair, forcing her to sit up.

"**Drink"  
**  
Once again the ninja complied, fresh tears rolling down her eyes as she tried not to gag.When Yori had swallowed the last of the stream Shego's legs enclosed around the ninja's head. She twisted and Yori's neck snapped like kindling.

Then the images ended. Once again Ron was confroted with the present situation. The small creature nestling inside his pants pocket was the only other living thing in the entire mountain besides himself. He could feel the death hanging in the air. Someone would pay. His eyes narrowed, the once warm brown eyes transforming into cold, hard, orbs of the same color. They turned upon the sword in his hand.

"Take me to her."

The sword obeyed.

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Bart smiled as he passed a sign declaring a school to be Middleton High. He'd found the town now all he had to do was save the girl. A thought slipped into the foreground of his brain. He didn't know what Kim Possible looked like or - A bolt of green energy shot past him, catching his attention. It had almost hit him. He screeched to a halt. In front of him there were two women fighting. One had red hair, she was panting heavily. The other one, the one with pale skin and obsidian eyes, leveled glowing green hands at her.

Without thinking Bart raced forward, shoving the teen heroine to safety. The twin bolts of energy slammed into his chest throwing him backwards. His head smashed into the concrete, knocking him unconscious.

Kimberly Anne Possible soared through the air. Something had pushed her but she wasn't sure what. She didn't have much time to ponder her sudden rescue from the bolts of green plasma because her head crashed into a statue, knocking her unconscious.

Ron Stoppable appeared in Middleton Park. His eyes immediately found his target. She was walking towards the limp form of Kimberley Anne Possible. He couldn't see Kim's body move, not even to draw a breath.

The dark energy that had been building around him exploded forward, racing towards the woman responsible for the hate burning so brightly inside him. The blast caught her off guard. Shego flew backwards, flying out of the park and through a local shop. The street was deserted, Shego had scared everyone away.

He reached down and picked her up. He let go and she stood in place, suspended by an unseen force as his fists slammed into her. Finally, when she was rather bruised, the onslaught stopped. By all rights she should have been dead, or at least severely injured, but the dark force that currently filled her had made her much stronger.

Ron summoned the Lotus blade from its position a few feet behind him. It obeyed him despite his now impure heart. He raised it into the air, ready to split the woman open. She'd taken everything from him. Yori, Kim, All the students that had grown to kind of respect him. That was it really. But the fact that it wasn't a lot didn't matter. He was going to take her world away. And then he'd make the pain stop, for everyone, forever. It was the only thing to do. He knew this was true, the blade told him so. Why would it lie?

"Don't do it Ron."

The weak voice of one Kimberly Anne Possible pierced the rage filled fog clouding his mind.

Shego hung in the air. Her mind slowly awakened as light came back to her eyes. The obsidian holes that had occupied the space faded back to her normal brown ones. She began to panic as she realized she couldn't move. The sight that greeted her didn't help.

Stoppable held a sword. From the look of it both blade and owner were ready to slice her in two. She also saw Kimmie struggling to her feet. She heard the redhead's words and prayed the blonde would listen. Then the memories returned.

She wanted to puke, but her body wouldn't let her. And then the darkness returned.

Ron froze as the voice of his best friend reached his ears. It cut through the haze of rage and dark energy surrounding him, the same things that mad the world seem so simple.

"Don't do it Ron. You're not like her, please."

"She butchered people I knew, Raped and tortured my girlfriend. She has to pay." He prepared to strike again.

"Ron, no. Not like this." This time the words were whispered. They reached him anyway. He hesitated again. The dark glow ebbed more and more. Then Kimberly was at his side. He sank to his knees as she embraced him. Tears rolled down his face. She held him while he sobbed, both of them unaware of Shego's activities.

Her eyes were obsidian once again, her conscience vanished and raw power filled that void. The creature she had become was more than willing to fight, but its body was weak.

Despite this it broke free of the mystical bonds holding it in place. It wanted both of their blood. The boy first, just so the girl could see his mangled corpse before she died. It had traveled to Japan just to hunt him, but he hadn't been there, even though the blade sang for him. So inconsiderate he was. But it had gotten even. It had made the cure little ninjas pay. But it hadn't found him. So it'd come back, to his home. He hadn't been there either, but his parents had screamed real well. Then the little red-head had interfered. It hadn't wanted to end the game so early, but it was just as well.

And then she had been saved and he had shown. It assumed the two events were connected. It was wrong. In its ignorance it struck at the only two targets it could see.

It fired a blast of green energy. Ron felt him self tumble backwards as Kim shoved him. The blast struck the ground he'd been kneeling in only seconds before. His eyes locked onto Kim, she looked fine, she was breathing. He spun, only to receive a jolting punch to the gut. The creature continued with blow after blow until the teen collapsed bleeding at her feet. Then it moved in for the kill.

A flurry of blows slammed into its flesh, stopping it from finishing off the young blond. It stumbled back, as a giant noise filled the air. A hollow golden tube of light appeared, sucking the creature in.

Then Bart collapsed, the damage his young body had taken coupled with his recent exertion thrusted him into unconsciousness.

A figure watched from a rooftop above. The midday sunlight bathed it in a warm glow. It still looked leathal. With a nad of its head it leapt down, landing easily. It appproached the three unconscious teens.


	2. In the beginning with you

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing! Nothing you hear! And just so you know Kim Possible is not a trained seal bent on delivering cookies to orphaned midgets. That's my buddy Ricky's job. The random comic book characters that appear in this chapter do not belong to me. Hah! take that originality.

A/N: I'm sorry thatI must do these cause I myself hate them. But I feel the need to apologize for the length of time between updates. I now possess a newfound respect for those that write long chapters and still manage to update. It took me days toget this ready and I've cut this chapter short. I hope to have the next installment soon. In case anyone actually reads this. Also the random number is a foot note it corresponds to the one right here.

1(See Marvel vs. D.C. and the short-lived algam comics line for the full story- Abe the honest believer.)

And Now on with the story.

Chapter 2: In the beginning with you.

High above the small blue green planet, high above the black void littered with specks of light and the alien fleet resting inside it, were four, for the lack of a better word, men. They stood upon nothing, taking a silent stock of the events upon the green-blue planet below. Eyes, both eternal and mortal ones, had observed the battle far below them with a clarity of vision that should have required a much closer vantage point. They stood in silence.

The shortest of the four, a creature whose head barely reached the chests of the others, leaned forward. Piercing eyes set into a skull the color of a light blue pastel crayon stared with a renewed focus upon the earth. It would not be wrong to compare him to an entologist observing a colony of ants that had suddenly developed a working nuclear bomb. Both fascination and a touch of fear were apparent on his face.

His voice filtered throughout the airless space.

"Interesting. In all my time I have never witnessed such an event."

His voice was filled with awe and wonder. The dulcet tone that conveyed those sensations called to mind images of cosmos forming over centuries. Listening to him one could easily believe that he had seen centuries pass, planets form from out of the swirling nexus of creation laying far below his feet. A fact that was easy to forget when looking at him. His red robe billowed despite the fact that there was no breeze.

He seemed content to let the statement stand, obviously not feeling the need to expand upon the two statements he'd uttered. Many might think he was trying to force those around him to ask to what he referred. The truth was he'd forgotten about them entirely, so engrossed was he in the spectacle before him.

The youngest member of the quartet was bursting with a curiosity born of pure anxiety. Nervous energy ate at him. The desire to flee and panic had filled him ever since he'd appeared to Impulse.

Access, once the man named Axel Foley, tried taking a deep breath, tried waiting patiently and failed miserably. He had to know what the little blue man had been speaking of. This whole mess was technically his fault. Not like he'd had a choice, but then again wasn't there always a choice and why the hell did he have to deal with this? Wasn't it enough that he frequently bounced between the different universes? Now he had to deal with fallout from saving all of existence. Yeah that was fair.

Those who had never met the boy who had become Access would have be shocked to learn that those thoughts flittered through his skull. Those who had known the young manner prior to his transformation would had not have been shocked.

Physically the boy had not changed much, a blessing in his case. Even after his meeting with the hobo in the alley, where he'd first learned of his proper place in the universe, he'd retained his stunning good looks. He still had the same lean form, complete with short cropped brown hair. His suit was still the same garish mix of red and blue leather-like material. He wasn't particularly found of it, but it seemed to come with the job. And what a job it was.

Technically he was some sort of cosmic hall monitor. Unknown to many people there existed more than one, for lack of a better word, realm. He knew realm was the wrong word, because different realm didn't really speak of the vast differences between each one. The things he policed were more like separate creations. Each had its own Brother, an insanely powerful being, reportedly believed to be the source of all life in its particular realm. Even Access had no clue who, or what, had created them.

During his tenure he'd discovered that more than two Brothers existed. There were the dual Brothers whose realms he'd once saved, by solving the conflict between the two. All of the Brothers apparently lived in ignorance of each other. When these two had discovered the other's existence they'd begun a war, pitting heroes and villains alive from their respective realms against each other, in a battle to determine which universe would survive.

The end result had been a tie, one that caused the two realms to merge, creating a new one, complete with its own defenders and villains. Somehow, though still ignorant as to the extent of his abilities, Axel managed to hide shards of the original realities inside two of the era's greatest warriors: Batman and Captain America. Access had managed to restore things to the way they'd used to be, despite the attempts of Doctor Strangefate to stop him. He'd brought the both Batman and Captain America before the twin brothers, who were once again battling.

Upon Seeing the results of the other's handiwork the twin brothers had agreed that the other had done a fine job.1 The end result had saved both realms, and had left Axel, a drifter by his very nature with an awesome amount of responsibility.

It was up to him to protect all of creation, every single realm, universe, or mini-creation from the dangers the two he'd visited had faced, though at the time he was only aware of those two separate realms.

He later learned, during later adventures, that he had the ability to not only algamate, combine two people into a product containing the properties of both the original individuals as well as a detailed history and personality, individuals but, he could also travel through time as well as between the realms. He'd also learned that, much to his dismay if he remained in any one realm for an extended period of time he'd cause that and another realm to amalgamate.

Since then he'd discovered countless other realms, each containing miraculous wonders and frightening dangers. He was coming more and more to grips with his powers, but the full extent of them was beginning to terrify him, no scratch that. It was terrifying him.

He'd managed to completely interweave two realms, that of the at times gritty and bleak realm that housed the Batman and the bright and shiny realm of Middleton, home of Kim Possible. It wasn't really a matter of whether he'd abused the apparent power he'd discovered, he knew he hadn't.

He'd been racking his brain for some way to stop Him, not G-d as the capital H would lead some to assume, but instead a being more powerful than any human had a right to be. This beast, for even Access was unaware of the man's true identity, roamed the realms in the far future, destroying them as he pleased, which, unfortunately, was quite often.

During a trip to the future Access had witnessed the destruction of a reality, the one that held the closest thing he had to a home. Thankfully the event wouldn't occur for at least a few decades, giving Access what he thought would be enough time to stop the madman responsible.

He'd failed. Somehow the beast had gained the power to realm walk, as well as travel through the decades. He wasn't sure how the villain was capable of such a thing, but Access quickly found himself on the ropes, for the villain was more than a match for him. So he'd fled, seeking out the time when things had gone wrong. He'd found it easily, the point in history had stood out like a giant zit on the night of a teenager's prom.

He couldn't help but notice it. He'd traveled to the point, Apocalypse around the time of Earth's first real war with Aliens. The realm, Batman's, was rather occupied so he couldn't really get any help. Not that anyone remembered him, an unfortunate side effect of his ability. Few individuals remembered him for any length of time. But that hadn't been important. He'd journeyed to Darkseid's home, doing his best to be careful and stay hidden. He'd seen Young Justice imprisoned and tortured, but he hadn't let that delay him.

He'd wanted to help, but first he had to prevent the end of all creation. He'd managed to find both Darkseid and the beast. He'd seen the two shake hands, grim bearers of destruction. He'd been too late, but then something had struck him.

He could see the weave of the realms, the progression at which they would travel. There wasn't enough detail for him to make out anything concrete. He was only sure of one thing. Along the path of total annihilation there was a grave marker. It had read: Kimberly Anne Possible, June 30, 2005. Her legacy shall live on in the hearts of those who have been touched by her deeds.

Somehow she was the key. Her death had to have been what the two where gambling on. So he'd done what needed to be done, what his new sight had told him was the only way.

The power had screamed through him, ripping at every corner of his being. His hands had grown white hot as he'd pulled at the two realms, fusing them together with a power and deftness he hadn't known he possessed. The effort had left him drained, with only enough energy for a cryptic message to the one individual with both the speed and impulsive nature required to react in the time the new realm had left. The boy named Impulse had come through.

And now Access stood beyond space itself, though still contained in this new realm he'd forged, with three of the most cosmically aware beings in all the realms and the best he got was an "interesting" he was feeling multiple exclamation marks coming on, which as everyone knows are the truest signs of insanity.

Access glanced once more at the blue midget who had once, along with the others of his kind, ensured order was kept throughout the cosmos. He wasn't going to wait any longer for an answer to his unspoken question. The only thing left to do was just say it. So he did.

"What?"

The blue man never looked away from the world below.

"This reality appears to be attempting to repair itself."

A cold blast of dread ripped through Access.

"No that can't be. I made sure they were fused."

He wasn't really addressing the others, but the blue man replied regardless.

"I meant that this new realm is attempting to solve all the small inconsistencies that would otherwise crop up. Small bits of history that having now been rewritten completely changes the lives of some individuals. The battle we just witnessed is a prime example. The only reason Impulse managed to make it in time was because his friend Robin remembered where Middletown only just now exists. It seems as though the Brothers you mentioned are accepting this change, trying to make it work. It's quite interesting. Fascinating really."

"More puzzling are the actions of the one named Shego. Her power and violence are far greater than those of what you had shown us as a reference point," the cold emotionless voice of the Specter interjected. "This bears watching, though we may take no action." The last part of his statement was directed towards the youngest and formally most mortal of the group.

"What?" Access wasn't exactly sure what he was being told.

"You are like us now. Bound by rules that other beings do not need to follow. In fact your rules are the harshest. Because you have created this new reality your powers are too great for it to support. You would be as unto a giant. Your every action could create catastrophic consequences. You will have to leave this man you seek to the heroes of this plane. You have at least given them a fighting chance. For now I take my leave of you. I have much to accomplish."

As the gray form of the specter vanished the blue man turned around, facing Access at last.

"I too must go, but I look forward to revisiting this perch in the next few days. This looks to provide and understanding of the cosmos we had never thought possible."

And he too left, leaving only Access and the fourth member of the group, a man encased in a deep blue cloak with a similar hat adorning his head. The combination of the items made him look like a mysterious hero from an early nineties film involving the mob and a supernatural do-gooder.

The fourth member had yet to speak and it was his opinion Access craved most.

"You shouldn't worry. Things shall work out. The individuals you chose are heroes. You may have perhaps changed everything," the stranger said.

The ghostly smile appearing on the man's face did nothing to ease Access's nerves.

"Do you think it's enough?"

"Who knows? But at least this way the world stands a fighting chance."

"You don't think its over." it wasn't a question. Access wasn't dumb enough to assume he'd solved everything, but he had hoped.

"That all depends on the next move Darkseid makes, now doesn't it? Events could still come to pass."

Access knew this was true. He could feel it all inside his bones, like a teacher knowing his student is not fully prepared for the challenges ahead. And all he could do was sit back and watch. The mysterious man spoke again, ignoring Access's silence.

"In time we three shall all be affected by the change. Each of us is tethered to this realm. You alone are not. The knowledge you possess may provide a small light of hope."

And with that final annoyingly cryptic statement the man disappeared, leaving Axel wondering exactly what it was that he made him desire the man's input in the first place. He sighed and vanished, fearful of staying in the realm for any longer. Last thing this world needed was Venom popping up again.

-

A golden tunnel of light flashed into existance. The loud boom that emanated from the tunnel cascaded against the stone walls of the chamber in which it appeared. The beaten form of Shego tumbled from the tunnel only to land unceremoniously on the granite floor.

A green hand connected to a gaudily colored costumed body gripped her long flowing air. It tugged her upright, forcing her tired lids open as it did so. There was no obsidian. In fact there was no color at all.

Her blank orbs stared straight ahead. At first she could see nothing, then bits of vision began to return to her. Mere heartbeats passed before both her sight and her irises were restored. In front of her loomed a towering brute. His skin was a dark gray. Its texture was rough and craggy, bringing to mind the face of a cliff. All in all he didn't look happy. He was in the middle of a rant.

His dark voice echoed off the surrounding walls, making him almost like the deity he claimed to be. He was addressing a man in a blue cloak with a brimmed hat covering his face. It was the same man Access had spoken to only minutes before.

"It is not over yet! I will not tolerate failure. Make no mistake Kim Possible will die." Shego's tired ears could make out the sound of heavy footfalls drawing closer. Large, cold, hard fingers surrounded her face, yanking it forward even more. The sensation was not pleasant. His cold face turned to her, no longer speaking to the mysterious stranger in blue. "And you will be the instrument by which she falls."

Ron Stoppable drifted back into the world of conscious thought. His torso and face ached something fierce. The first sight his tired eyes found was his best friend.

"K.P.?" His voice was barely a rasp, but it still sent the redhead scurrying to his bedside.

"Where am I?" he continued.

"Hospital. Shego knocked you up pretty bad, I was afraid you weren't going to make it."

He didn't need to ask what she was talking about. He remembered it all. He had the feeling he'd never forget. He pushed the thoughts out of his head, forcing himself to think of something else.

"When can I go home?"

She didn't meet his eyes.

"KP?"

"Ron, your parents are... Ron I'm so sorry." She embraced him as shock overtook him. The numbness spread through his body, preventing him from even feeling the pain of her touch on his abused body. "My parents said you can stay with us. If you want they'd even like to adopt you." From the look in her eyes she didn't expect her words to make it better at all, but nonetheless she wanted him to respond. Anger, denial, anything but the startling silence that had crept over him.

A nurse walked into the room.

"Ms. Possible. The other boy has woken up. Umm the special one."

Ron snapped out of his trance suddenly, looking questioningly at Kim. She blushed under his intense gaze. She could read it like a book. It was his 'why wasn't I told' one. It wasn't like that, not at all. So what if the brunette hero was kinda cute and he had saved her... and she had to focus now, because as adorable as Ron looked like that she probably should respond.

"It's not like that Ron. She's referring to Impulse."

If it was possible Ron's eyes widened even more. The look hadn't gone away.

"Nice catch K.P." A low whistle spilled from his lips.

Her eyes narrowed. Here she was worrying about him and he was being his normal self. That was a sure-fire sign he was okay. Anyone else may have bought it. She wasn't that dumb. Still, it wouldn't help to force the issue.

"Impulse saved your life, well both of our lives. But he got hurt pretty badly. I wanted to know when he woke up, to thank him for saving us, but it can wait."

The blonde was still smiling the same dopey grin that had plastered itself on his faceas he responded.

"Nah, K.P. Go on, he's probably confused as what he's doing here. Give him my thanks. Don't look at me like that, I'll be fine here till you get back."

With that his best friend embraced him once more and walked out of the room and followed the nurse down the hallways.

Ron's grin faded as the two left.

Ron sat alone in the hospital room. The dark glow began to surround him again, and then disappeared as he began to sob. All of the horrors of the day were expressed as he sobbed, shaking uncontrollably, after a few minutes his body stopped shaking. A man detached himself from inside the shadows of Ron's room.

"I know that feeling."

Ron looked up startled. Before him was a man clad in a spandex body suit. Unlike most that Ron had seen, and he'd seen a few, this one obviously came equipped with body armor. The man's face was hidden with a mask with only one eye slit. He could have sworn he'd seen the man somewhere before.

"The anger, the helplessness. The knowledge that you want her to pay but can't do anything about it. Yeah I knew all that a long time ago."

"Who are you?"

"My name's Deathstroke the terminator. But that's not important. I'm here to offer you the chance at a successful revenge, if that's what you want. You have potential, that much I'm certain of. But potential won't shield you or those you care about from menaces like the bitch you just faced. Before you ask, I only heard about it. I wasn't there till the very end. I'm the one that got all of you to this hospital. If you're interested tomorrow morning a man will come by here. He'll only have one eye and silver hair. Accept his offer to be your guardian. One warning if you do so you'll have to leave everything behind. At least for a while. When you're done training you can come back whenever you please. I'll decide when you're done training. Once you begin there's no turning back."

With that he turned to leave.

"Why?"

"I've been a lot of things Stoppable, bout time I was teacher again."

-

With that he left Ron alone.

"Don't worry they left the mask on."

Impulse turned to look at the girl standing at the entrance of his room. He thought he recognized her. Then it hit him. She was Kim Possible, a hero like him. Then a fuzzier memory, one that seemed almost as if it was from a dream came to the front. It claimed she wasn't supposed to be real and that he was supposed to be in the clutches of Darkseid. But that wasn't possible. He hadn't left earth since the whole incident on Dobby's planet a few weeks before. They'd gotten back, and he'd had adventures sure. Like losing Carol forever because of something she might do in a future that was no longer going to happen thanks to his speed clones saving Max Mercury's life. He also remembered one of the clones dying. And he remembered losing that power, though the dream memories claimed that never happened. And he was faster than the dream memories claimed he once was. Maybe it was a trade-off.

All these thoughts ran through the boy's head in split seconds. After that his mind was free to stare at the red-head before him.

"Thanks," she said. "You really saved us back there."

A crimson red seeped into his skin.

"Itwasnothingreally.Allinaday'swork."

The teenaged heroine blinked before producing the only response she had to the sudden barge of words. "Huh?"

"He said it wasn't a big deal," a young girl's voice informed her. It came from the slightly ajar window. Before Kim's eyes a girl formed seemingly from nothing. Kim stared hard, but the smokey apparition in front of her eyes didn't fade. "Hi, I'm Secret. Are you a friend of B-" she stopped as she saw Impulse's head suddenly begin to shake very fast. Her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" Her voice had lost the cheery, childlike quality that it had possessed a second ago.

"Secretchill,it'sKimPossible.She'sagoodguy."

There was no pause to sort out the speedster's words, which amazed Kim. The mist girl seemed capable of understanding Impulse, which, as Kim was learning, was a rather impressive feat. The girl of mist seemed to deflate before Kim's eyes, returning once more to the childlike state in which she entered the room.

"Sorry, kinda overreacted. The name's Secret. I work with Impulse."

"It's nice to meet you. Oh, I'm sorry," Kim said as her hand passed right the mist girl's. Secret's smile dimmed a little, but remained planted firmly on her face.

"Don't worry about that, it happens." Her smoky appendage hadn't moved from her side where Kim had tried to snag it.

Bart didn't let the tense moment last too long, not that he'd even noticed it.

"Whereiseveryoneelse?"

"Oh, well I don't know where Robin is," her cheery continence seemed to fade a bit as she spoke the words. She quickly recovered though, leading Bart to think nothing was wrong, Kim noticed it though, despite how the entire situation was making her brain hurt. She wasn't much for hero worship and only kept a close tab on other super-types in case the knowledge was ever necessary for one of her missions, there were exceptions of course. Secret was not one of them.

Kim's confusion stemmed from the knowledge that the mist girl was currently supposed to be dead. She wasn't sure why exactly, Wade hadn't specified claiming that the DEO report was vauge at best. The only definitive thing her young friend had to say was that the DEO claimed it had been forced to neutralize a dangerous subject made entirely of mist. In fact, according to the report, only the intervention of Robin, Impulse, and Superboy did the agents make it out of the mess themselves. Which prompted the very important question of why Impulse seemed so chumy with the girl. She made a note to ask later. It was possible she'd just jumped to a wrong conclusion. The mysterious girl in front of her may be someone entirely different.

Secret continued talking, quite unaware of Kim's train of thought.

"He said it was important though. Superboy has his appointment today, you know the one with the president? Wonder Girl went along with him. Moral support. I came to check on you. Lobo gave me a lift."

The name sent another shiver of curiosity through Kim. Lobo? They hung out with Lobo? She knew of him, Wade had been very clear about how she should handle him should the need arise. Step out of the way and try and call Superman.

Secretly she agreed. Lobo was a ticking time bomb at best. The alien was close to unstoppable and did pretty much what he wanted. Thankfully she'd never run across him. She withdrew from her thoughts to find the two heroes in the middle of an animated conversation. With a small smile upon her lips she left quietly to check on Ron. Neither hero noticed.

-

Kon-el, the hero known the world over as Superboy, stood by the double doors leading to the nation's most important man. Beside him was Cassie Sandsmark, the heroine known as Wonder Girl. He was doing his best not to tremble, not that he was scared of course. He was Superboy, why should he be scared. Except that this was probably when Luthor told him he was to be executed and Project Cadmus disbanded.

With a final second of hesitation he pushed the doors open, ready to face off against the bald bastard. Cassie moved forward, with every attention of following until Luthor's cold voice cut through the air.

"Please remain outside Wonder Girl. What I have to discuss with the Superboy is for his ears alone."

And the door shut behind the suddenly startled Superboy, leaving her once again out in the cold.

-

The door to Ron Stoppable's hospital room pushed open slowly. It creaked as the tired, old wood was forced to move inward. For some reason the hospital had never replaced the old doors, just slapped on a new coat of paint and left them as they were, even though everything else in the building was replaced and upgraded regularly.

Kim Possible wasn't thinking about any of this as she entered the room. Her only thoughts were of the boy laying on the hospital cot. He was splayed out on his back, his head lolled off to one side. Small noises crept from his barely parted lips. They almost sounded like whimpers. The noises pulled her closer.

She couldn't resist walking forward, despite the danger of awakening him, an action most would consider an example of natural curiosity overriding one's better judgement. Most people would be wrong. She could feel no nagging sensation that she shouldn't move forward, the action seemed almost natural. Once she moved close enough to actually understand the mumbled words moving forward became a necessity. In order to do so she moved to his bedside. Her pretty green eyes looked down upon his resting form as she perched herself upon the solid hospital mattress. All the while the soft pleading continued to spill from his throat.

She had to stop the endless succession of begging and pleading. It tore at her heart to know he was suffering because of her. The thought wasn't a new one for her. It had plagued her for most of her life, in one form or another. She'd even talked to the guidance consular once, though not even Ron knew. The old lady had been far from helpful. And now, as Kim's eyes danced across the pained expression on her best friend's sleeping face, the doubts and fears returned anew. Her fingers soon joined her eyes in tracing his face, and the whimpers grew even softer.

Despite the fact that, the sun's illuminating rays spilled through the high window into the room, she soon found herself joining him in sleep. The soft yawn that piled her lips apart was the final warning she received. Her eyelids grew heavy and her body no longer seemed capable of fighting against gravity. Within a span of seconds that seemed so much longer her body curled down, forward and sideways all at once. She could barely maneuver herself enough to ensure she ended up snuggled against his side and not on the floor.

Her mother found her there much later. No orderly had dared disturb the duo. With a small smile Mrs. Possible looked over at the softly beeping monitor connected to Ron, and upon seeing the waving line rhythmically pulsate turned and left the two friends to their slumber.


	3. A Time for Goodbyes

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

A/n: PLEASE REVIEW

* * *

Chapter 3: A Time for Goodbyes

"So how'd it go?"

The deep voice called from the shadows of the hotel as Superboy entered. The teen of steel fell onto the nearest couch before he answered.

"Great, if you count getting pulled from action great. I'm officially benched until Luthor decides he wants to let me back in the game. Oh and if I disobey ol' baldy then he shuts down Cadmus and brings me up on federal charges. Whoopee. Only good thing about the damn meeting is we get to keep Guardian. And no army of clones."

"And you're not going to jail," piped in Wonder Girl, who'd entered in time to hear the boy's rant.

Kon-el merely huffed before turning to the place where the boy wonder had spoken from.

"And how was your meeting?"

"They'll allow us to continue operating on one condition. They want us to have team training sessions."

"Don't we do that already?" Wonder Girl called out.

"Ah Cass but our sessions aren't up to the Bat's quality," Superboy answered.

"Funny you should say that Kon." And that was all Robin needed to say to cause the boy of steel's bravado to fade.

* * *

The next few days passed by in a blur for Kim Possible. Impulse was released hours after he'd woken. The doctor had been astonished at the brown haired superhero's metabolism. The masked youth had thanked him and sped off, leaving Kim with Ron. Ron had spoken to Kim, a painful conversation that they'd managed to stumble through.

She couldn't believe what he'd told her. She respected his decision, had to, but it still hurt. He was going to live with his Uncle Slade. Apparently he and Ron's father had never really gotten along, which was why she'd never heard of him.

She vehemently wished Ron would reconsider, but he'd claimed he needed to be with family, if only for a while. So she was going to be understanding, even though it meant Ron would be moving across the country. Worst of all was she wouldn't even see him for missions.

He needed the time off, she knew that, but their adventures were the only way she could really conceive of regularly seeing him. It was devastating, but only temporary. In the meantime she'd just have to do the best she could on her own.

Before she knew it the day had come and Ron was leaving to meet his uncle.

They were standing in the hospital parking lot, the dim light from the overhead fixtures the only thing keeping the darkness of the subterranean garage at bay. Shadows crept along the border of the weak circle of light. A car rested just outside the circle's circumference. Its deep red exterior reflected the stray beams of light that struck it, drawing the elder Possibles' attention. Mr. Dr. Possible stared hard at the car, as if the metallic vehicle hid some deep personal significance. Kim's mom, however, just gave it a glance before turning her attention back to Ron.

Her daughter was currently draped over him, tears staining his red shirt, the one he seemed to wear everyday. Ron's chocolate eyes were free of liquid, a fact that worried her. She chased away the fears, after all Ron was just overwhelmed at the moment. And he probably wanted to be strong in front of her daughter; after all he was hugging Kim tightly. Yes that was all it was. It couldn't be the fact that the death of his parents and his girlfriend by the hand of one of his best friend's foes, who was hunting him in order to get at her daughter the teenage hero, had unhinged him to the point were he was beyond feeling the emotions coursing through his system. At least, that's what she told herself.

Slade stood, dressed in casual clothes, loose fitting so he could hide his armor underneath them, waiting for the two teenagers to separate. The goodbye was taking far too long. There had been hugging and crying, all done by the girl, followed by promises of phone calls, followed by more hugging and crying, this time the girl's brothers, followed by statements of how much they'd miss the blond boy, followed by more hugging and crying, this time the girl's mother, followed by the woman telling his new charge that there would always be a place for him at their home, followed by a brief handshake and decelerations by the girl's father, Slade had more than stopped paying attention at that point, and now they were back to hugging and crying, once again with the girl draped all over his soon to be protégée.

To the boy's credit he hadn't cried once. Emotional control was something he'd have to learn anyway, best if he started now. Or, at least that was Slade's rather... interesting view on the entire thing. But he wasn't going to interrupt. It was the last time Ronald would be seeing this family for a long time. The training regime would see to that. Well that and Kim would be nosy if she thought anything was out of place. Best to let her cling and cry rather than realize how fishy the whole thing was.

Not his best operation, if truth be told. In fact at the very best, it was sloppy, risky and had as much chance as the titanic in a room full of landmine laden icebergs. But it was the only one he had. The entire thing was happening too fast. He'd only come to Middleton as part of a routine check up on the boy's family. He hadn't expected anything to happen. And he didn't really care if anything had. He only went to keep his promise. When he got there he caught the tail end of a climatic fight, the kid in question fainting just after a boom-tube whisked little miss glowing claws away.

He'd made all of the arrangements after visiting the boy in the hospital. So what if they were a little sloppy? Even he had his limits.

And with the kind of timing that can only be achieved inside a narrative work, Kim broke away from Ron just as Slade returned from his reverie into the recent past. Tears clung to her face as she gripped her best friend around his shoulders. Leaning forward she kissed him again, her lips seeking out his cheek. Pulling away she wiped away the tears as Ron gave her a forced smile, earning him another point in Slade's book. The old man wasn't cruel. He'd just heard too much about Ron to even hope that the boy had control of his emotions. It was probably shock.

* * *

In a far away land there is a pit. Inside it crackles the deadly flames that are feared throughout a galaxy. Inside it these flames leap and dance, covering all space except for a small section of island. The island is really more a pillar of rock, but either way it serves its purpose. Bolted into it are thick chains made of a deep black metal that will not melt, not even in the intense heat of the pit. They do get hot however. Proof of this lay in the smell of charring flesh currently filling the nostrils of a massive elderly lady. She wasn't tall, but she was broad. Her white hair stood out in a Halo surrounding her skull. Her stocky legs were resting upon a strange disc that hovered above the pit of flames. Her steely eyes were staring at the naked figure whose flesh the chains were charring. Her forearm was bobbing up and down, pushing a rod in and out of the imprisoned dark haired woman.

A scream was ripped from her lips. The smell of her own burning flesh penetrated the numbing fog of pain that surrounded her mind. The white haired lady cackled

"Now, now Dearie, fair's fair. You did it to the little ninja didn't you? Come on now take it like a woman. You'll never be ready in time if you keep screaming like that."

Normally she used machines for this, to punish her naughty children, to whip them into the shape needed to serve lord Darkseid, but the girly in front of her was different. This pup was to fulfill a special mission for her lord, to punish one who'd defied him. So she was going to make sure this pup became a warrior, like the rest of her furies.

She shoved the rod even deeper, maintaining this new pressure until her captive was too hoarse to scream any more.

The burning rod slipped from the former hero's body as the white haired lady leaned closer.

"That wasn't so bad was it? I told you it wouldn't be. You'd do well to listen child. After all, Granny knows best."

A harsh chuckle resounded once more as the rod was reinserted. Granny Goodness leaned back, satisfied. The screams weren't so loud now. Soon the girl would be ready and her lord would have his revenge.

* * *

Doctor Drakken sat inside one of his many Lairs. It was state of the art, filled with whozzits and whatsits galore. From here he'd planned to launch his master plan, one that would definitely work. Shego should be standing there right now, growing more irritated as she attempted to puzzle out his foolproof scheme. But she wasn't there, and he wasn't silently gloating. He was currently hunched into a small ball. Shego hadn't showed up for work. She'd been missing for the better part of a week. He'd heard about the battle in Middleton, heard how she hadn't been captured, his other henchmen had kept him informed. But still, she wasn't here, where he was. The only explanation was that something had her trapped; some government organization was simply keeping her capture quiet. That had to be it. It was the only reasonable option. It even made sense. Well he wouldn't let them keep her. He'd save her. It would just take time. It would take operation terror. And that would take a month. He hoped she'd be okay, and that gave the world a little more time to come to its senses.

His eyes traveled over the schematics for the thermonuclear device he'd be using. Some would call his plan insane. He wouldn't. After all, He needed Her. They had been together since the start of both of their villainous careers. They were more than just co-workers. They were friends. And you always went the extra mile for friends.

In short, he'd gone nuts.

Access once again found himself beyond space, beyond time, looking upon the world he'd created. A familiar voice called out to him.

"How goes the vigil?"

Access spun suddenly to take in the view of the little blue man suddenly standing behind him. Gathnet didn't wait for an answer. Instead the last remaining guardian leaned past Access, looking once more upon the earth.

The cosmic hall monitor sighed a little.

"They're acting weird. It's like watching a bad soap opera, you know about those right?"

"Hmm? Oh yes. I quite enjoy passions, but I think I see what you mean. You shouldn't worry. It's fallout from the changes you made."

"You keep saying stuff like that. I didn't understand last time and I don't get it now!"

That was two exclamation marks, not that the added volume or intensity caused the blue man to do anything but stare at the human in front of him.

"I shall try to explain this. There is a natural order to life. If this order is disrupted life itself will attempt to set things straight. There are many forces that exist inside this, I believe you call them realms. Each of them has an impact of the way things turn out."

Access looked as clueless as ever.

"Perhaps I should explain it like this. Think of the planet below as a living entity. The changes you made are like wounds. The planet is attempting to... This explanation isn't working is it?"

The boy nodded.

"Very well. Imagine this realm is a giant comic book. You are a guest writer who has shown up and inserted new characters into the cannon, characters whose very nature conflicts with the rules of the story. You then leave, and the regular writers return. They see what's happened and understand why it happened and they cannot undo it without the entire thing falling apart. So they attempt to quickly and discreetly fix the small inconsistencies. During this time period the normal rules are suspended and the narrative takes over. The characters, or people that exist in this realm, become nothing more than pawns without free will. They accept the improbable and impossible because they have no means to question it. They accept events that would normally make their blood boil because deep down a part of them is telling them it's all too unreal anyway. And so the narrative continues.

"When the story is at a place where it can once again function without the interference of the writers, the character's personalities will reassert themselves. And because we are discussing actual people and not fictional representations of human beings, there will be much confusion, guilt, and many will just chalk it up to shock from the events that occurred around them. Do you understand now?"

"Yes. No. Yes. It doesn't matter. How long will it last?"

"The last time I witnessed it was only for a few days, perhaps a week. This is a much larger change though. Just be patient." And then the Guardian faded, leaving Access alone with another.

A soft voice, almost hauntingly so, called out from the darkness.

"I am worried about young Stoppable. Despite the phenomena that Gathnet has mentioned he is acting strangely out of character."

The hidden accusation didn't go unnoticed by Access. Crimson color crept onto his face as feelings of shame washed over him. Technically the boy's reactions were his fault. His rapid changing of both time lines and realities alike had, had more repercussions than most would have tolerated.

"Well, there's more. In the original universe, other things happened. He's probably experiencing the echoes." The voice didn't ask for clarification, but for some reason Access still felt the need to give it. "Umm, they're what happen after a radical shift in the time line of a realm alters events either in the past or future in such a way as that they never existed. The person forgets the event, but retains strong emotions regarding a person or place."

The voice remained silent for several heartbeats, mercilessly leaving Access to stew in his own confusion and worry. When it once again slid through the air it allayed neither of the two emotions pulling at Access.

"Why did you not simply stop all of the events from occurring?

"I couldn't actually affect the bet. It doesn't make sense, but I think at least one of the people involved must have been immune to my powers. Though, I haven't felt his presence since. It's possible that Impulse's intervention changed everything."

No sound greeted the man's explanation. After the silence had drawn on for longer than the one he had just endured Access began to search for the blue clad stranger. Access found nothing. He was once more alone.

* * *

A car sped along a dusty road. Cliche yes, but out here in the southwest, also a reality. The red sports car sped through the arid wilderness. Its old, one eyed driver pushed the car to its limits. The red line of the speedometer was pushed far past the ninety mark, bouncing every now and then. The motor roared as the old car sped by cactuses and wide eyed iguanas. The silver haired man's passenger sat, staring out into space. The blonde teenager in the passenger's seat hadn't said much since they'd left Middleton; all he'd done was sleep. The driver had woken him when they'd reached Arizona's borders and now the youth simply stared out the window. A pink rodent snoozed happily in his pocket.

Without warning the driver yanked the steering wheel, pulling the car off the old highway and into the sandy desert. The vehicle tore through the dunes, sending sand up in sprays. Animals scattered as the car sped forward, unmindful of the damage it did to the fragile ecosystem it was in. Several burrows caved in, crushing their inhabitants, as the monstrous machine ripped a path along the forgotten sands.

The house didn't have time to loom. The car moved with such alacrity that almost as soon as Ron saw the tiny wooden shack, they were there. A shingle fell off as Slade punched the car's brakes, sending up a fountain of sand all around them. The driver clicked a button on his key chain. The sand rippled, parting as the ground underneath the shake shook. Metal gears hummed and whirled as they pushed upward, raising the shack and the land beneath it, revealing a glittering tunnel.

Slade once again stepped upon the accelerator urging the car forward. It descended down into his lair. When they reached the end of the ramp Slade stopped the car. Before he exited the vehicle he gave a glance to his new ward. The awe he'd felt at Stoppable's calm reaction to his speeding faded when he saw the boy's face. It was an ashen color, the same as his fists, which were latched firmly upon whatever solid, affixed, objects were closest. Sighing Slade spoke:

"Let's see. We have a lot to do but first... How'd you like to be faster, stronger, and more aware then you've ever been."

The color slowly returned to Ron's cheeks, even as his hands moved across his chest, gingerly patting, as if to make sure he was all still there. Rufus yawned.

"Sounds bondiggity," Ron said, his voice a emerging as a high pitched squeak. Slade's eye rolled back inside his skull. An angry sigh found itself expressed. Then Slade spoke:

"I'll pretend I heard a yes. Come this way, and we'll give you the serum."

* * *

Far away, on the same planet where Shego was being reshaped and remolded, a figure sat. It wasn't a man, though it most likely considered itself male. It had all the right pieces, but with self proclaimed gods it was often hard to tell. Then again, if at all possible you don't argue with this figure, so he, he shall be.

He was sitting on a massive throne, his glowing eyes staring aimlessly out onto his planet, his perfect planet. If only the rest of the world was like this, ordered, efficient there would be no problems. Some would say he was a dictator who ruled with an iron fist and had crushed the very spirit from his people. He didn't see anything wrong with that.

And Apocalypse was his home, his planet. And if the name wasn't bad enough, the reality was worse, much, much worse. The people of this barren planet were little better than worms. They were tolerated when it suited their lord and master, squished when he felt like it. To keep a metaphor running, they also preformed functions vital for Apocalypse's ecosystem. They were broken and brainwashed to serve as their lord's loyal soldiers, willing to give up the semblance of life they had achieved at any time. Those that were not lucky enough to be crushed in this way were made to serve, performing menial labor and jobs that made the harshest Earth conditions seem heavenly.

His elite were nigh invulnerable like him, and as sadistic as possible. Each of his officers served a different purpose. He had assassins, warriors, tacticians, interrogators, demented geniuses, spies, and Granny Goodness. She ran his orphanages, training his special elites. It was her job to shape the lowies, give them a new purpose in serving him. He was quite pleased with her work. It was why she was still alive. Right now he basked in the screams of his newest pet. When Granny was finished Shego would be more than capable of carrying out his wishes. And then Kim Possible would pay for postponing his vision of universal order. He'd had it in his finger tips, in the form of wager. But that was of no consequences, not now. All that matter is that those who failed Darkseid pay. And now Kim and Shego both would suffer.

He'd made a bet. And though he hadn't won he still aimed to collect.


	4. Journey through the dark

Disclaimer--- I very much don't own these characters. They are owned by disney and dc comics, have a nice day

A/N: The title for this chapter is taken from a song by blind guardian. I don't know if the song has anything to do with the story, the title just fit. Also I just realized a mistake I made earlier on. Access's first name is axel, last name is not foely... cause I don't remember his real name I'm just gonna call him access.

On another note: This chapter isn't betaed, sorry but for some reason hotmail didn't want to email my beta. Sorry for any reading inconviance this may have caused.

As always please review. And this is really important for this fic: Please review. If you want the whole spiel check out my author page. But shortened version. I'm having a crisis of faith on these fanfics. So please let me know what you think, even if it's not positive news. I'd rather hear a bad review than no feedback at all. Oh and if I continue wriing these fics, I may start suggesting music to listen to while reading certain sections in lew of putting in song quotes. Hope ya'll enjoy this.

* * *

Chapter Four: Journey Through the Dark

It was the twenty fifth day of Solack in the year of the Primagoatia. The sun rose steadily in the sky, as if upon greased rails. To one man though this progress was no where near steady enough. He wanted the sun to reach its apex now, before anything could go wrong. Not that anything could. This was to be his time. And nothing would stop him, not even the pretender and his little friend.

The man thinking these thoughts greatly resembled an evolutionary throwback. His body and face were manlike, although more than a tad hairier than they should have been. The rest of him was not so normal. Resting at the bottom of his long, hairy, and thickly muscled legs was an appendage not found on any other human being. At first glance it might have been possible to mistake them for human feet, if you were drunk and blind. His feet were longer, wider than a typical human's. The five toes were longer as well, containing an extra joint that allowed them to bend and curl, acting like another set of hands. The pads of his feet were thick, toughened by his continuing refusal to where any kind of shoe, lest his odd feet bee unable to fulfill their functions as a second set of hands. His hands were also different. They were far larger than any humans had a right to be. Hands like his had not adorned human bodies for centuries. Not since humans had evolved in fact. The same was true of his feet. The only place one could find hands and feet such as his would be attached to a monkey, like the ones dressed from head to ankle in dark fabric that surrounded him. The horde of them stood dispersed throughout the rather large room.

The room the monkeys inhabited was quit different from the rest of the museum. For one thing it had just recently been assembled. The paint was still fresh on the sign reading: New Exhibit. Each and every brick that lined the perimeter of the room had been removed with careful precision from the exact room in a mysterious temple that the idol that sat in the center of the exhibit had been found. The interior of the room itself was dark. This was because the only light that entered the room was through the small slit of a missing brick in the ceiling. Currently the light fell well short of the idol of Simiar. It illuminated only the bricks lining the floor. Under these bricks was a thick layer of the soil attained at the same moment

Monkey Fist was impressed, as well as pleased. Some curator had obviously spent time making sure every detail was right. And that was what assured him of his victory. As soon as the thin strip of light struck the center of the stone idol the power would be his. And nothing would be able to take it way.

It was too bad he didn't notice the flashing red box in the upper left hand corner of the hallway that connected the new exhibit to the rest of the museum. Or the one difference in the exhibit and the temple it was supposed to mimic: a grate covering the entrance to the air vent in the room's ceiling.

* * *

In a room in Middleton there is a bed. By the sheets covering it, one could easily tell that it belonged to a girl. The rest of the room was much like that, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that the owner was a seventeen year old girl. Her name was Kim Possible. It said so on her backpack. It was said she could do anything. Right now anything consisted of curling up into a ball and crying. 

Four familiar tones broke the silence of her bedroom. It was the first time in days. Technically she was still off duty. With Ron gone she'd retreated to the safety of her room, of the memories trapped inside. It wasn't like her, she was well aware of that. She should just try to get on with her life, but staying in her room was so much easier.

The kimmunicator didn't give up. Its incessant beeping continued, quickly eroding what little restraint she currently possessed. The beeping that had started only heartbeats before came to a sudden, final termination as the small blue device shattered against the wall. Tears rolled down her soft face as she curled up inside her self.

Small clicks filled the room. A distant hum became louder as the seconds ticked by. After thirty had passed her computer flared to life. The deep blackness of the screen faded in a flash of color, leaving the small, dumpy form of Wade Load. The young tech wizard's eyes quickly found her.

"Kim, we've got a hit."

Her reply was muffled by the fact that her head was buried in-between her legs.

"Uh, what was that?"

The fiery tresses hovered in the air, just enough so that he could make out her mumblings.

They kinda sounded like, "'m not interested." But there was no way to be sure. Regardless he pressed on.

"Kim, it's Monkey Fist. He's stolen an idol. It's said to be highly dangerous. The collector that owned it had it kept under lock and key in an high security vault, well until his son had it transferred to the Middleton Museum of Culture."

She didn't responded, the despair that filled her left no room for her to suck in the air she would need to reply.

"Come on KP, what would Ron say?"

Her tear stained face broke away from the protective shell of her knees.

"He's not here."

"Would he want Monkey Fist ruling the world?"

Several tense heartbeats passed as Wade waited for Kim's response. Finally a single syllable broke past her lips.

"No."

A smile spread across Wade's digital countenance. It faded slightly as he realized that she was no longer looking at him. Her eyes were pointedly fixed on an image on her night table. It was of a dopey looking blonde youth wearing a classic red jersey and a pair of cargo pants. Despair tainted Wade's features as he assumed the worst. The redhead's lips kept moving, oblivious to her friend's concern.

"He wouldn't."

Kim stood, her hands reaching to clear the saltwater trails from her cheeks.

"What's the sitch Wade."

The pudgy boy smiled, as the cloud of despair surrounding them both thinned.

* * *

This hurt, was the one thought Ron Stoppable was currently capable of having. It was three hours after Slade had given him the first injection of the serum that would increase his physical and mental potentials beyond that of a normal human. The pain was an unmentioned side effect. Currently he was strapped to a gurney in an isolated, white, sterile room that looked quite out of place in the homey house Slade had taken him to. But he wasn't focused on his surroundings. He was too busy feeling pain. His body felt bad, like he had a very severe fever. The world spun at random intervals, even when he did not move. His eyes constantly watered even as his throat felt parched. His muscles felt surprisingly sore and weaker than he would have ever thought possible. A few times he'd tried to stand, every attempt ended with him falling unceremoniously to the floor and Slade putting him back onto the lab's bed. 

The worst thing though, was what was happening inside his skull. Every new thought sent bolts of pain streaming through his skull. Whenever he tried opening his eyes all that appeared were swirls of color. And somehow they burned. Strangely enough his cock stood erect, as if it were some form of perverse monolith. It pushed at the gown covering the boy, making an obvious tent. Slade politely ignored it.

Amidst the waves of pain inside Ron's mind, phantom hands caressed him. The pale yellow hands moved across his body with a sureness that could only have belonged to a girl he'd spent many nights with. Her delicate voice rang in his years, repeating her favorite nickname for him, the one he'd earned the first time they'd met: Ron-san. He tried to latch onto her as the pain continued. He couldn't though. Every time he came close, his own phantom hands stretching out towards her, coming inches from holding her sweet soft flesh again, she would dance away only coming back when his hands fell to his sides in disappointment. And then the cycle would begin again.

Above Ron's sweating form Slade merely checked his watch as Rufus chittered nervously.

* * *

The vent was cramped. She fit, but just barely. Apparently the men in charge of redesigning the museum, were a tad more up on security details. She'd had to disable several traps as she'd crawled along the narrow passage. And she'd had to resort to sneaking through the air ducts because, for some strange reason, they'd installed a lock down mode complete with several foot thick titanium shudders. The idea had been to lock a thief inside with whatever artifact they'd come for until the head of security arrived. Unfortunately Monkey Fist needed to be in that room for the ritual to work, and all the shutters were doing was keeping the calvary out. The tech geek in charge were on their way, but it'd take them a few hours to flew in, and it was their thumb prints that they needed. According to Wade, and the research paper the curator who had assembled the exhibit had written, they didn't have hours. So she was stuck crawling through a tight air vent all alone. 

As she moved, she repeated a silent mantra. She was doing this for him, for Ron. She just had to keep reminding her self of that fact. It made it easier to crawl through ventilation ducts without him. She had always known she'd needed him, even if she'd been too proud to admit it at times. He was her best friend and her confidant, well on most things. She trusted him with a side of herself that noone else even got a glimpse of. She'd cried herself to sleep in his arms, trembled out her nightmares safe in those warm, limp limbs. He was a sanctuary for her. And she'd been deprived that. She was aware of how selfish that sounded, but she didn't mean it that way. She wasn't angry with him. She knew he needed to do what he felt was right, no matter how much it hurt. She just wished he was by her side, where he belonged.

The sound of voices, inhuman ones at that, pulled her focus from what was missing. She had a job in front of her and she was going to get it done. She could feel sorry for herself later. In front of her was exactly what she needed. The vent widened a bit and there was a grate just begging to be knocked free. Well, who was she to look such a gift in the mouth?

She easily made her way to the grate and, after that, quickly dislodged it. It fell through the air, hitting the floor with a resounding clang a few seconds later.

Kim thrust herself through the opening left after she'd knocked the grate free. Like it she fell straight down. Her lithe form rolled with the impact, letting none of it actually harm her. As she brought her head back up to gaze once more at the surrounding area a harsh gasp met her ears. A few inches in front of her, within easy striking distance, was monkey fist. Unfortunately he wasn't alone. Clustered around both him and the pedestal he'd been standing in front of was a large group of monkeys clad in black cloths. The little simians did not leap about or make noise. Instead they focused intently on Kim as she met their stare. Without breaking her eye contact with the group of ninjas, Kim tried to take stock of her surroundings. She tried to remember what she'd seen of the room as she'd fallen through the grate. Unfortuantly Monkey Fist did not give her the time to recover the information on the room she required. Instead he spoke, prompting her to switch her gaze to look at him, even as her brain took stock of him.

"Kim Possible." He more whispered the name in shock than actually spoke it.

Monkey Fist. Her eyes narrowed as they latched onto the genetically altered villain.

For his part, Fist recovered quickly. Heartbeats before a look of shock had coated his face. Now that expression had faded, leaving one that reeked of contempt and self assurance.

"Ah Miss Possible. And where is your sidekick? Too broken up about the loss of his beloved Yamanouchi to show his face?"

Kim's face tightened. Her usual expression had hardened, containing none of the amused mirth that often showed itself on her ventures when she bantered. This time only rock hard determination met Fist's jibe. Her tone was much the same when she responded seconds after he had spoken.

"Her name was Yori."

The simian villain gave a twisted laugh.

"Foolish child. I referred not to a girl, but to the school where the imposter was training. Or did he not mention it to you?"

The girl's face gave nothing away, not even under the intensity of the Englishman's gaze. Her fist did give away something though. The message was a tad obvious and even the ranting villain understood.

Monkey fist wiped at his face, removing the thin trail of blood leaking from his lips.

"I see Ms. Possible. Very well we shall do it your way. Monkey ninjas attack!"

And suddenly the monkeys that had been remaining so placidly still became alive, jumping at leaping with incredible speed. It was all Kim could do to fend off the first wave of furry attackers, throwing punches when ever she had a breather from countless attacks of the squad of ninjas. Such respites were rare, resulting mostly when two ninjas interfered with each others attacks. The sheer volume of attackers made such a thing possible. Every second monkey hands would shoot out, attempting to sneak past her guard. For every punch she managed to block another monkey waited, ready to make its move. A system that protected them from exhaustion, A protection that Kim did not possess.

As the fight dragged on, seconds becoming agonizing minutes, more and more of the nimble monkey's attacks snuck through, leaving her battered, and weakening her defense even more, letting more blows through.

Despite the slow pounding she was steadily receiving Kim was launching her own attacks as well. A monkey kicked out. She managed to grab its tiny foot. She yanked with all her might, causing the small simian to continue on past her, until it crashed into the ninja attempting to sneak up on her. After blocking yet another punch she threw one herself. She connected, knocking one monkey back, only for another to slam its fist into her rib cage. It was the fifth such hit and her ribs hurt immensely. This had never been this hard and during the deluge of attacks her pain addled mind came to a dark conclusion. She really did need Ron, despite what global justice thought these days. Without him she was just another teenager in over her head. With him she could be unstoppable. Another fist slammed into her ribcage, sending more tendrils of pain through her, and focusing her mind just a tad more. She was starting to get very tired. She'd been fighting the monkeys for a least fifteen minutes now and she was at the very end of her stamina. Despite the consequences she lashed out again, swinging randomly at the collected monkeys, whose ranks she had managed to thin a little. Her foot slammed into one's head, knocking it down. Another's skull met her fist and it too slumped beneath the power of her attacks. She unleashed a third strike and then a forth, each time knocking a monkey back and down. On what was to be her fifth strike a hairy hand encircled her wrist. It was larger than that of a monkey ninja. Monkey Fist. She'd almost forgotten about him. He grinned evilly as he held her.

"Not as tough without the imposter are you?"

With that he tugged throwing her into the wall several feet behind her. Pain shot through her body as flesh met brick. Her world spun slightly as she looked up at the slowly spinning view of monkey fist, even as he grinned that unpleasant grin of his. A sick feeling washed over her as he spoke.

"My how I've waited for this day."

* * *

Ron Stoppable was trying not to die. He was still trapped inside the fever the injection had caused. Every second had been agony until he'd passed out, or at least that's what his observers thought had happened. Instead his heart beat slowly and his brain waves were barely there, but he did not wake. Inside his head, though, where neither Rufus nor Slade could see his mind raced. 

Why had he agreed to this? There was absolutely no reason he should trust this random guy. And yes he was pissed off, his parents were dead, but for all he knew this guy had something to do with it. And Yori... He was being hysterical. The thought bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him. He knew it was true. That train of thought ended there. Of course he was hysterical he'd just lost his entire family, his girl-friend, and now he was in the middle of he didn't know where with some raving super-villain lunatic who was looking to train him.

He should just leave, but if he did... His thoughts trailed off, leaving him alone with the faces plaguing his mind. They danced, mockingly, in front of his tired eyes, chanting a silent mantra as they did so. He couldn't hear them, but the he could see their lips moving. Somehow that was vivid enough for him to make the words. Their lips moved in lurid, frightening patterns, accusing him of failing, or being worthless. Then three appeared strongly out of the melee of random faces. The first two he'd grown up with, they smiled slightly, even as their lips moved. The silent, well what could we expect, tore at him even more than the hundreds of affirmations of his worthlessness had.

And then he heard it, bounding inside his head, warped by the fever. It was a voice, and despite the alterations to it caused by his state of mind he thought he could recognize it. It sounded so familiar, it was on the tip of his tongue, but the fever kept the knowledge dancing just out of his reach. He thought he could feel his hands reach across the endless mixture of black and red that had become the world around him. Just out of their reach was the knowledge he needed. If he could get it everything would makes sense. He strained hard, even as Yori's face danced in front of his eyes. Her lips begged him to respond, to tell her why he'd let her die, let them all die. He was the chosen one wasn't he? Had he lied to her, was he a liar? Or was it that her Ron-san simply didn't care enough? Why hadn't he saved her from being raped, from being tortured. Had the nights they'd spent together meant nothing to him? Perhaps they should have meant nothing to her. He was a loser, a pitiful excuse for a lover and a hero.

His fingers stopped questing as the harsh truth of Yori's soundless words caused tears to well inside his eyes. The sea of red and black blurred, and the truth flew away, leaving him desperate and alone. Save for the voice. It wasn't cackling, but within it contained a note of warning that it might just do that at any time. He knew it was laughing at him. Who wouldn't. He couldn't even make it through a simple enhancement treatment. He was going to die here and the world would be a better place.

"Maybe, but that wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Least not for me."

His eyes cleared, and his perspective shifted, as the world seemed to swirl around him, spinning in the kind of circle that only occurred in odd animes. What he was faced with would definitely occur in the odd animes he'd watched when he was a kid.

In front of him, smirking, was himself. The same and yet different. He hadn't aged, but his face was harder, harsher, as if he had been a fighter. Small scars stained his face, along with a larger one. It stretched in a diagonal across his right eye, starting in the middle of his forehead and going until it reached his cheek bone. Inside the side was a blank orb. It stared ahead as Ron watched himself intently. A smile was on his duplicate's face. It was one Ron had not seen before. It wasn't exactly evil, though the closest thing he had ever seen had been on Shego's face. It held confidence, and more than a hint of strength. It was the smile of a predator, more than confident that it could handle its pray. It was the smile of a man completely comfortable in his own abilities. Floating beside him was a severed monkey head. The one eyed Ron glanced at it and shrugged, and it disappeared, only to be replaced by a massive ape. Once again the one eyed Ron shrugged and the ape vanished. The one eyed Ron smiled, turned to focus fully on Ron, nodded his head, turned around and faded backwards, slowly oozing into the real Ron Stoppable's body.

And then he was in front of a mirror, inside a very blue space. The image in front of him flickered slightly. At first it was himself, but as he stared hues of orange and black worked themselves in, transposing themselves onto his red jersey and brown pants.

His youthful face flickered in and out of the image in front of him, becoming a mask of golden and black hues, upon its was painted a mouth that was not yet a grin. Two slits allowed his eyes to pear out. In the waking world false memories would have told him whose costume he wore, but here in side the realm of his true mind he had no clue and merely watched in fascination as the dream wore on. Under his steady gaze the image flickered on last time before settling upon an image. He was wearing a costume, one he could not recognize. Gold and deep blue were interspersed throughout the costume, each taking over random sections of the outfit. It formed an elaborate pattern that he had no idea as to the meaning of. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a monkey clap.

* * *

Kim's back was against the wall and she had nowhere to go. Fist had her overpowered and out numbered. For a second she thought about giving up. She didn't know it was only a second, it felt much slower, as if everything else had stopped while desperation flicked inside her mind. Monkey Fist's stinking breath filled her nostrils and his ugly, hairy face filled her vision. He didn't seem to move for an eternity. During the short period he filled all available space around her, seemingly pushing time out as well. He filled her every thought. How could she have hoped to win against something as disgusting as him. The odds were completely in his favor too. She was exhausted beyond belief and he was in perfect condition. Victory was impossible. The excuses stopped there. Impossible was nothing. She'd been doing the impossible for years. It was impossible for a teenager to constantly thwart dangerous criminals that even trained professionals had issues with. It was also impossible for her to operate as she did without a single personal attack. It was impossible for her to juggle school, cheerleading, and saving the world. It was impossible for her to continually escape death traps. It was impossible for her to do any of this without any superpowers and only a touch of formal training. She'd proved time and time again that nothing was impossible for a Possible. This time would be no different, despite the fact that she was alone and Monkey fist was holding her pressed up against a wall, one of his massive hands holding her wrists above her head. It was no big and she was going to prove the family motto right again. 

Her brief confidence was shattered when Fist's hand tore through her blouse/top, leaving her nearly topless in front of him, with only her bra protecting her modesty. Her breasts bounced a bit as she shook in shock. She tried to marshal a retort, but it died unspoken as Fist cracked her across the face. The blow made her head spin and blood well up inside her mouth. His leer died upon his face when her booted foot said what her mouth couldn't. It sprang up between his legs, slamming into his tightening balls with everything Kim possessed. Fist's face scrunched up into a mask of absolute agony. The hand gripping Kim's wrists did so no longer as Fist brought it back to cup his wounded pride. Kim would have none of it though. Her confidence returned as a warm rage suffused her system. It flowed into every pore, muscle, and bone giving her strength were a moment ago there was none. She took advantage of it. She lashed out, this time with a recently freed arm. She punched Fist much the same was he had done to her only seconds before. A grim smile passed over her lips at the cracking sound that echoed through the air. Blood dribbled down Fist's chin. Kim didn't let that deter her though. She swung her booted foot through the air once more and smiled as her foot connected with Fist's face in a sweeping out to in crescent kick. She didn't let up, landing blow after blow while his monkey followers stood mutely aside, none foolish enough to tangle with the angry woman. Not without a direct order at least. When Kim finished her brutal pounding of him, Fist squeaked out a quick order.

"Monkey ninjas attack."

None did. Nor did they make a move to prevent Kim from striking Fist again. Her fists set up another brutal rhythm upon Fist's body. Knuckle met quickly bruising flesh again and again, as the anger born of what he'd planned to do to her drove her on. She was so wrapped up on bloodying Monkey Fist some more she completely failed to notice the single ray of light illuminating the room strike the idol dead center.

A few hundred miles away the true monkey master opened his eyes and a naked mole-rat sighed in relief. His servants just watched Kim Possible carefully, waiting for another order from their master. One more punch sent Monkey Fist into the peaceful throes of sleep. She wanted to just collapse and sleep, but there was still things to do. First she would need to deactivate the security system, allowing the cops in. Wade had said he'd be able to do so if she plugged the kimmunicator into the main security terminal. After all this time she'd assumed as much. Maybe after that she'd have time to worry about why Fist's monkey ninjas were all sitting around staring at her. But first off, she really needed to find some thing that could be used as a shirt. She briefly considered using Monkey Fist's black gi top, but didn't want to see him topless under any circumstance. She gave up the search after a few minutes. Modesty was all well and good, but it could wait until she was safe and sound at home. Sighing she walked out of the sparsely decorated room, moving towards the museum's security control room.

* * *

A surge of energy shot through Ron Stoppable. The very hairs upon his young, lanky body stood up. His deep brown eyes changed, first taking on a tinge of yellow and then becoming deeper. The end result was a brown color that had not been a part of a human's eye since man out evolved his ape cousins. But it did not last. As soon as Slade turned his head, even the slightest fraction of an inch, the mysterious color vanished leaving the chocolate brown that was all to normal. The change in color had been a trick of the light, nothing more. And just as Ron's eyes hadn't truly changed, neither did the rest of him. His hands did not elongate. His feet did not twist and bend until they resembled those of his archnemesis. In fact not a single hair fell out of place as Ron practically leapt out of the uncomfortable lab bed he'd been placed in. The electrodes reading his vital signs snapped off him as his back arched as he bolted into a sitting position, thrusting his chest high into the air. Little red circles were the only trace of the devices as Ron sat up panting. An image of a smiling monkey had been the last thing he'd seen before he'd been freed from the fever dream.

* * *

Far away in another state, at an old abandoned hotel near a beautiful green forest a youth with black hair was sitting bored upon a couch. His muscular back pressed against the thick, beige, backrest. Without thinking he stretched, his arms, thick with muscles, rising up till they were level with his shoulders before resting upon the top of the couch. His head supported by his thick neck hung back, the fluffy thick foam hidden beneath the mustard yellow swirl that Wonder Girl found so charming, supporting it. Superboy lifted his head as a sound reached his ears. He recognized the delicate gasp of approval and it sent shivers rippling down his well built chest. When his eyes found its owner all he could do was stare. 

Cassie Sandsmark, or Wonder Girl, stood a few feet away, enjoying her unexpected view. Her blond hair was damp. Occasionally, about once a second, a bead of water would form upon a tip, and wait another second before falling. On the third second it would strike the plush rug that covered the enormous room that held the t.v., Superboy, and the entrance in from the pool. His eyes found her form almost immediately, staring intently at her body. The tight red one piece bathing suit she wore highlighted her features much more effectively than it hid them. He could see the six pack she possessed, the muscles making their impression in the clinging fabric. Her nice sized breasts pushed up against the fabric covering her chest, rasing something within him. Normally she'd blush and look away. Her blond hair would whip around as she tried to escape his gaze. That didn't happen this time though. She had already begun her own visual exploration of his body and would not be distracted. Her eyes traveled over his uniform, the only clothing he wore most days. The blue and red spandex looked as if it was form fitting. There didn't seem to be any space between it and his skin. She could make out just about every line of muscle he possessed. When she had almost reached his legs, she saw just how tight his costume was. Straining against the fabric was something that stole her breath and made her flush with pleasure.

They remained like that each staring at the other, neither capable of speaking until a blur of red moving at hypersonic speeds burst into the room.

"Hi! Whatcha guys doing?"

* * *

Bart Allen, Impulse, was not the tallest kid, but his mass of shaggy brown hair helped to compensate for his perceived lack of height. And as the hair would lead one to believe Impulse was no ordinary teen, even for a super hero. Technically he was only five years old. He'd been born with the gift of super speed, and a metabolism to match. He'd aged rapidly and completely uncontrolled until his grandmother had brought him back in time so that his cousin could help him. And help him Wally did. Now Impulse was aging normally and was no longer confined to the virtual world his rapid aging had forced him to grow up in. But because mentally he lacked awareness of anything but a fictional dream scape he'd been left in the care of the mentor of heroes, and a hero himself, Max Mercury. And though his ability to grasp and understand reality had improved significantly in his time with Max, he still hadn't mastered the concept of flirting, or good timing for that matter. So he simply stood smiling at the now disgruntled and embarrassed teens. Superboy's glare doubled, perhaps tripled once Cassie ran off, blushing profusely and stammering the entire time. They'd come so close to actually saying something to each other, despite neither's mouth being ready at all to move. 


End file.
